The Unwanted
by hg-HollowGirl
Summary: TJ moves in next door to Mickey Milkovich and creates one of the best friendships she's ever had. Mickey is fast, honest, and blunt. Each day brings them closer and she struggles with defining what they have, and with telling him the truth of who she is. Mickey/OC. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Like I need to be starting something new... WELCOME! This is an Author Universe Shameless Fan Fiction. Essentially the only thing being used are the character's and their lives. I'm not following the show period. There might be some themes from the show, which is bound to happen, but there will be no season 1, 2, 3 in order.. blah blah blah.**

 **Also, I ENJOY Mickey/Ian a lot. But for the purposes of this story he's straight. I just love him a lot, and that love is strange and manifesting in different ways. Bare with me, won't you?**

 **I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. :) Sound off!**

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Tamlyn Jean Schuler stepped out of the taxi with her book back over her shoulder and a scowl on her face. The man didn't even wait for her to step away after she shut the door before pulling off and out of the neighborhood. She watched him take a quick right back towards the by-pass, a smirk on her face. She figured most people wanted out of the Southside of Chicago as fast as he was driving.

She returned her attention to the house in front of her, staring up at the massive three-bedroom, 2 bath that would be her home. The keys were tucked away in her right pocket and she made to get them out as she headed up the porch. Her parents hadn't started work on it just yet, and she was sure there would be a grocery list of shit she would need to work on inside. The fencing around the front was busted, the gate missing, the porch sagging; it was going to be a long summer.

Heading inside and closing the door behind herself she surveyed the living room. Just outside the front mud room there was a couch, a busted ass chair, and an entertainment center. If there had been a TV at one point in time, she figured it had been stolen a while ago. Moving through the space she headed into the kitchen, checking out the fridge to make sure the power worked and turning on the stove to check the gas. The water heater sat in the far-right corner, just next to the staircase.

She scaled the stairs with ease, checking out the three bedrooms, the master on the front end of the house. The master bathroom looked ok, but it all needed a bath for sure. Dropping her bag she headed back downstairs, snatching up the note she had seen earlier. A grocery list for sure, project after project was laid out in front of her. Scanning over the prescheduled installation points, TJ sighed, tossing the paper back on the counter.

No time like the present to get high and wasted, she'd worry about the cleaning later.

 _ **1 week later**_

She had scored a job at the diner just four blocks down the road. The main stretch of Canaryville where the laundry mat and grocery shared walls. With the money her parents had wired her for the house, and the money she had gotten from tips and salary, she had finally got the living room into a decent condition. The bathroom upstairs was looking ok, but the bedroom still needed work. She found herself sleeping on the couch.

It was working, she was proud. Each day brought a new surprise. Going off the schedule she had received, her flooring would be replaced tomorrow, a crew coming by to rip up the old carpet downstairs and lay vinyl. After that she would have to stat painting, instructions on how to get paint delivered to the house detailed in her notes.

At 7 AM the day of she found herself blaring music and dancing around the kitchen, making breakfast to last before she was kicked out for the floor layers. Bobbing her head and screaming at the top of her lungs she scrambled eggs and popped bread into the toaster she had gotten. The loud bangs on the door got her attention though, pulling her out of her revere as she took a sip of coffee and headed towards the front, turning down the music on the way.

On the other side of her door was an angry looking boy. Only four or so inches taller than herself, he seemed to growl, crossing his arms over his chest. He had on a t-shirt and boxers, his dark hair disheveled as he stared her down. He looked exhausted.

"Shut the fuck up," he drawled out, rubbing one hand over his face.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, it's 7 in the fucking morning, you got a brain cell up there?" He pointed towards her head and she rolled her eyes. She could tell he was agitated, his eyes bouncing back towards the house on the left. It was falling apart too, but by the state of it she figured it would stay that way. When she had first moved in she thought it was condemned, vacant from the lack of traffic.

"I have quite a few thanks," she smiled sweetly, "I'll be sure to turn the music down. Sorry."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" The scream came from the house he had been staring at, a mousy head of brown hair tucking back inside the front door as it slammed shut behind her. TJ couldn't help but laugh as the girl announced herself and left so abruptly.

"Your girlfriends not so nice," she said before she could stop herself.

"Sister," he corrected her, uncrossing his arms. "Keep it down. I don't want to have to come back over here."

"Look I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone lived over there."

"Well, we do, and we're tired like normal fuckin' people at 7 in the morning." With that he was gone, flicking her off over his shoulder as he headed down her porch, barefoot, and onto the sidewalk towards his own home. She watched him head through the front door, closing it behind him and leaving her in silence.

The hum of her music from the living room was all she could hear for a moment before the flooring installation truck rolled out front and parked in the middle of the street. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hardly edited, I wrote this quickly from a memory of a past moment. I'll get around to editing this story in the future, so if there are grammar and spelling issues feel free to mention them so I can make note to correct. Enjoy!**

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It had been two weeks since her encounter with the neighbor. It's like the world suddenly started working or something. Before she had been brutally yelled at, the street and the house next door had been quiet. Now there was constant traffic.

TJ saw him in the late morning, his sleepy eyes staring out over the street as he sipped coffee on the front porch. Sometimes he was wearing full clothes, occasionally a robe, once he had been naked. She had found herself blushing and darting back inside all too quickly, not wanting to get caught staring.

Every time they made eye contact though he scowled. If she hadn't seen him smile at least once a day in the morning she would have been sure that the scowl was a permeant fixture, but all the same.

And with all the resolve in her body she wanted to correct the indiscretion so she could stop cowering every time she ran into him. Her Saturday morning was spent making cookies, her grandmothers recipe sitting out in front of her. She took liberties from time to time, her skills in the kitchen self-taught but still good. It always helped to have instructions in arms reach, however.

After mentally debating the amount of people she had seen coming and going she reasoned with three dozen chocolate chip cookies. She was frazzled when it was all done, but it was an accomplishment she was happy to share.

As if on cue she heard his car pull up, music loud from the speakers. It cut after a few seconds and she grabbed the plate, making sure the saran wrap stayed on as she headed over to the neighbor's house. As she took the first step up to the shabby porch, eyes bouncing around the various lawn ornaments shaped like fridge parts and broken bicycles, the front door opened and the very person she wasn't clicking with stepped out.

He didn't look up, focusing on the cigarette between his lips as he lit it and took the first drag. Eyes now closed he inwardly sighed, dipping his head back and dropping his shoulders as though the nicotine acted instantly.

"What do you want?" he muttered, peeling one eye open to look at her. She wasn't sure if he was attempting to be scary or if it was just a natural aura around him. She felt the abrasive air though, the cookies in her hand suddenly looking very childish indeed. She plastered on a smile, taking the remaining steps to the landing, now standing just inches from him as he breathed out, smoke hitting her in the face and traveling upward.

"I made you cookies, as I'm the dick who's been waking you up too early in the morning." She presented them with a smile, waiting for him to react.

He didn't say anything at first, his eyes bouncing to the plate in her hand, brows furrowing slightly as he seemed to think about the correct response.

"Are those chocolate chip?" he questioned as he took the plate from her. She nodded, stepping aside as he moved forward without hesitation. He dropped down and took a seat on his landing, just next to her feet. She looked down at him as he unwrapped the saran wrap and threw it into his front yard before picking up a cookie and shoving it in his mouth. "Fuck man these are good." He moaned through another bite and she found herself flushing red as she took a seat beside him.

"Thanks?"

"Tell your mom I said thanks," he muttered out through bites, "these are the best."

"Um, I guess I can." TJ laughed, swiping one of her own cookies from his plate. "I mean you'll have to pay for the long-distance call though, cause fuck those fees."

"They leave you in that big house by yourself, what are you like 15?"

She burst out laughing, leaning back into the laugh that rolled through her and made her chest swell. She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him as she fished into her bra. He watched her with confusion as she pulled a joint out, perfectly rolled, a lighter tucked right in beside it. "I'm 18 actually, and this was their idea. Disciplinary action if you wanna call it that."

"Did you just pull a fucking joint out of your bra?" He didn't hesitate to swipe it from her, discarding the cookies on the other side of him in exchange for the doobie. He took a sniff before nodding with approval, lighting the end up quickly before taking a hit. She watched, taking it back after a second before taking her own hit. "Full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think I'm pretty normal. Now, the important question," she passed him the joint reaching over him to grab a cookie, "am I forgiven?"

"That's between you and god dollface, I'm just here to get high." He looked out over the street, watching the neighbor across the way shuffle out of their house and head to their car. The summer air around them was vapid, so thick you couldn't breathe. As they sat there in a silence TJ was sure she had already sweat through her tank top and sports bra, her long slender legs frying in the sun. "Whats your name?"

"It's TJ for short." For some reason she didn't want to give him her real name, Tamlyn Jean sounding like something a grandma would hold onto. She shied away from him as he took the blunt back from her and finished it off, grabbing up the plate of cookies and stuffing a few more in his mouth. "You?"

"Mickey."

As she looked over at him, he caught her eyes. She nodded, taking in his name, not sure what else to say. The silence lingered as she studied his face. Sun kissed just lightly, she was sure he was super pale in the winter. His dark hair and dark eyebrows stood out on his complexion, bright blue eyes inspecting her as well. She could see the red haze from the weed as he smiled, his high kicking in.

"This is some good shit," he muttered, looking away from her and handing her back the plate. She inspected the now empty plate and found herself standing, taking the few steps down.

"Where you going?" he called out, standing up himself, watching as she headed over to her own house.

"Home, you're welcome to join. I need more cookies." She took a moment to inspect him over her shoulder, her body shivering at the hard look in his eyes. She knew that look, she had seen it before. He blinked it away though, quickly, nodding his head and glancing back at his house for a moment before following her. She waited for him to get in stride before continuing on, not entirely sure what she was doing as she closed the front door behind him and they headed into the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Mickey, although high, was staring at every inch of her house. She watched him from the corner of her eye the best she could, but her fingers were knuckle deep in cookie dough, which was much more time consuming than she anticipated. Her own buzz was making seconds into minutes, entire days trapped in each moment as she felt the cookie dough squirm around her fingers. It was cold, the smell of dark chocolate hitting her nose, making her smile.

"You haven't been here long, you just get this house?" He finally made it into the kitchen, eyes still surveying everything. He was scoping out every corner, crack, crevice. He ran his fingers along the walls, along the furniture, making a path for his eyes to follow.

"Nah, my parents own it. Have for some time, just haven't done anything with it."

"They those suits that showed up about six months ago, the blonde barbies?" He leaned on her kitchen counter beside her, watching her fingers in the bowl. He hesitated for a moment before reaching down and grabbing some of the raw cookie dough and taking a bite. She watched him lift it to his mouth, watching the dark chocolate chunks slid into his mouth and get trapped between his lips. He sighed with a happiness she was proud of before she remembered he had asked a question.

"Those would be the 'rents. In comparison, I suppose I'm a barbie too." She hadn't meant to flutter her lashes but it happened, Mickey watching her closely. He studied her face and she felt insecure suddenly, the sweat not making matters any better. He didn't respond to her comment, just pushed himself off the counter when he spotted the staircase in the corner. She didn't have time to tell him no as he was already scaling the steps 2 at a time and helping himself to the second level.

She could hear him walking around as she preheated the oven. She thought about the things she had, trying to remember if there was anything to steal. A laugh rolled out of her at the thought, not sure exactly where it had come from. Maybe it was the neighborhood, maybe it was the things she had seen him take into his own house with the cover of darkness; she wasn't sure. But it made her laugh.

He was taking his time in each room, not that there was much of anything in the two spares. Just curtains, some left behind furniture, and a mattress on the floor in one of them with a strange red stain on it. She didn't want to speculate. It was much too heavy for her to haul out by herself and the vinyl layer's said they didn't have room.

When the cookies were on the pan, she washed her hands, shoving the tray into the oven afterwards. He had made it to the master bedroom, and he had been stopped for over a minute now. As she listened, and debating going upstairs, she finally heard him walk, his steps bringing him back out into the hallway, and then he appeared on the staircase.

"Where do you sleep?"

"Couch."

He nodded, hands on his hips like a dad. He seemed to be intrigued, something in his brain trying to be figured out. "I'd get rid of that mattress upstairs if I was you."

"Yeah?" She questioned, leaning back against the counter and kitchen sink, arms crossed over her chest. "Why, you kill someone on it?"

"Not me."

"Excuse me?" The air was caught in her lungs, Mickey laughing manically as he headed into her living room. She followed him with bulging eyes, watching him sink into her couch and take her pillow, placing it behind his head. "Just make yourself comfortable."

"How much longer on those cookies?" He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and she swatted at them, quickly making him put them down. Although the furniture was shit, and it looked worse than something you'd see on the side of the road most days, it was all she had. And she wanted it to stay nice.

"Nine minutes and counting." She sank down next to him on the couch, producing the TV remote buried between the couch cushions. Her dad had sent one over when he had learned from one of the contractors, she figured, that she didn't have entertainment anymore. She didn't complain, cable hooked up just a few days later. She flipped it on, surfing to the preseason game for the Bears.

"You watch football?"

"My pops used to own a couple of the Bears. I went to the games when I was little."

"You fuckin' with me?" Mickey's eyebrow's pinched together as he looked over at her, studying her face as she smiled and shook her head. She most certainly was not fucking with him. Her father was notorious for getting things that either a) made him look cool or b) pissed her mom off to no end. It was the latter this time around.

"My mom hates football, so my dad sponsored a couple of the guys, got season passes, made a family event out of it. Anything to rile her up."

"Bet they fucked after."

"That's gross." She scowled, quickly changing the channel to something else, the unpleasant image in her mind. Most programs were nonexistent in the afternoon, a few day time soap operas popping up between channels. She passed by animal planet and stopped when Mickey told her to. LA Choppers on the TV. They seemed to get sucked in, watching as the bikes were showcased, washed, cleaned, supped up.

Before she knew it the timer was going off.

She scrambled to the kitchen to get the cookies, pulling the tray out on the beautiful masterpieces. She let them cool for a moment, pouring some milk into two glasses, before putting them on a plate in a big pile and carrying them out to the couch. Mickey quickly took the plate and a glass from her, licking his lips as he watched the program and bit into one of the cookies.

Like the plate before, they were gone in just a matter of minutes, TJ sunk down into the couch, full of warm chocolatey goodness, Mickey beside her just the same. The summer sun was sliding across the floor and they both passed out too quickly, grins and bits of chocolate still on their faces.

* * *

When TJ opened her eyes next it was dark. The TV was turned down, some movie playing softly in the background. A blanket was thrown over her body and the plate and cups had been removed. She yawned, stretching out her limbs as she fumbled for her phone in her pocket to see what time it was.

The thud from upstairs startled her. Sitting up quickly, shaking and peering over the back of the couch, she watched as a figure stepped down from her staircase. She didn't recognize his height, or his build, his eyes shining in the moonlight from the window. She had her thumb typing in 911 and dialing when she heard his voice.

"Iggy shut the fuck up, don't want to wake her."

"Don't think we can help that." The creep she didn't know pointed her out, and Mickey stepped down from the stairs just seconds later, looking in at her concerned.

"Hey, go back to sleep." It was a fatherly demand, which made her laugh. She rolled her eyes, leaning her chin on the back of the couch, staring at him confused. Another figure joined them on the landing but this one wasn't walking forward, rather backwards with something large in his hands. It took TJ a moment to realize but it was the mattress. She didn't say a word as Mickey directed the two men who carried the thing out the back door, Iggy following them. He stood in the door frame for a moment, glancing back at her. With a quick nod he was locking the handle and heading out himself, shutting the door behind him.

TJ sank back into the couch, a grin on her face. Chicago wasn't going to be so bad.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is rough, and unedited. If there are errors and you feel like being a friend, point them out. I'd love to fix them. :)**

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TJ bobbed her head to the music, one hand on the handle of the skillet, the other on her hip. Her hair was thrown on top of her head, the summer night beyond warm. She had gotten rid of her pants earlier, her legs on display from the edges of her baggy men's tank top. The sun had sank beyond the sky line hours ago, but the warmth was unrelenting.

Laundry was tossing around in the washing machine, the gentle noises of the house comforting as she hummed along to the radio.

Curling her toes, TJ shook the skillet around on the burner and leaned over, taking a big whiff of the food. Her stomach growled and she smiled. Her grandmother was Italian, and pasta was her thing. A recipe that seemed to skip TJ's mom, but she didn't mind. Spending her childhood with her grandmother instead of her parent's had never been a problem.

"Whatcha makin?"

She screamed, whirling around, hand to her chest, heart hammering away. Mickey stood there laughing. Her back door closed behind him as his eyes scaled up her bare legs. She was already red from the shock, but his eyes didn't help.

"Jesus fucking Christ." She let out a breathy chuckle, flicking him off as she moved over to her washer and dryer where her shorts she had discarded sat. Pulling them on, she turned back around to face him, one eyebrow raised in question. Her back door had been locked since the last time he had been here, over a week ago, and yet he got in silently.

Mickey bit his bottom lip, finally looking up at her eyes as he shook his head, an evil grin on his face.

"How'd you get in?"

"My key." He showed her a silver key before shoving it in his front pocket. He moved over to the small bar that sat in front of her sink, sinking down onto one of the stools she had there. She furrowed her brows and made to question him but he pointed at the skillet, her eyes glancing over quickly to see what he was motioning at. Her skillet was fine but the food was smoking. Quickly she grabbed it, pulling it off the stove top and putting it on the counter. "Smells good."

TJ nodded her response to him, glancing over at his grin before stirring up her food to make sure it was good. With a grin of her own she grabbed two plates, dishing out food, sliding one in front of him as she rounded the counter and took the seat next to him with the other.

He took a baby bite, tasting it, mulling it over. After a moment he started shoveling it in, TJ chuckling softly to herself as she ate her own food.

"Damn girl, that," Mickey pointed at his empty plate as he leaned back and grinned at her, "was fucking good."

"Thanks." She gathered up his empty plate along with hers, dropping them in the sink before turning around. "So, why do you have a key?"

"I changed your lock."

"Excuse me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes on him as he grinned up at her.

"You got a key, I put it on your chain." He stood up, coming around the counter to stand in front of her. She noted how close he was as he leaned back on her sink, crossing his own arms to match her. He was so relaxed, at ease, as though he had known her for years. She had realized how easy this was, and her frustration melted away so quickly. "Your old lock was shit, I replaced it before we took the mattress."

"I suppose I should say thanks?"

"Nah, you should be mad." He unraveled one of his arms to point a finger at her. "You always this trusting?"

"No?"

"Bullshit."

She glared, swatting his hand away before rolling her eyes. Turning her back to him she headed into the living room, Mickey hot on her heals. She had a new addition, a PS4, and it only took him a second to notice it. He had a remote in his hand in seconds, ass planted on her couch and demanding the passcode to get in. In ten minutes they were blazing up and playing God of War, the thick summer air of Chicago lost as they enjoyed each other's company.

It went on like that for weeks. TJ spent the day's working on the house, painting the living room slowly, making sure it hit the right standards. She welcomed in a few contractors here and there for the electrical and the plumbing. Every night she'd either start dinner or warm up leftovers, Mickey by her side like clockwork. They'd talk about his day, the weather, the news, whatever.

She learned quickly that he had some friends down the street, a family that was busting at the seams in their own house. She learned that his sister was dating one of the boys, and that he didn't particularly like it. She also learned that his dad was locked up, the house left to him, his sister that she had never met formally, and his other brothers – who, in Mickey's words, were here nor there, or fucking something else.

He was definitely something else himself. She grew fond of him, his foul mouth, his raunchy humor, and his strange caring moments. He floored her from time to time, getting upset when he learned she had been out after the sun had set, walking no less. They argued over it and he learned quickly that she wasn't as weak minded as maybe he had originally assumed. He left in a storm of anger only to come back after she had been asleep, waking her up to apologize.

It was nice. Although, not normal in any way, she thought of Mickey as a reprieve from the insanity of her own life. A vacation from her own thoughts, her own issues. Plus, she had good weed.

Hands tucked deep in her pockets, TJ strolled down the street towards her house, a grin on her face. The sun was still intolerable, but she didn't seem to mind much. Her hair was stuck to her shoulders, her skin red from exhaustion, but it didn't much matter. The people around her were in the same predicament, and she waved a small hello to the older lady who lived four blocks down the street, who always waved when she passed.

It was so quick, she didn't expect it. One minute she was strolling along, the next two hands grabbed her from behind, she heard the squeal of breaks suddenly, and she was being thrown into the back of a vehicle. Trying to let out a scream, a hand was shoved over her mouth so she took advantage of the moment and elbowed her assailant. The man grunted, mumbles of fuck whispering behind her but she didn't wait to hear. The van door was shut and she was thrown into darkness. Quickly, she threw a foot back, clocking whoever it was in the shin, their hold loosening up.

"Damn," another voice came out of the darkness, laughter following it up. TJ froze, looking up at the beaming and smiling face of a boy she had never seen before, a mop of disheveled curls tumbling all around his face. She narrowed her eyes, glaring, reaching out suddenly to hit him. The one behind her though pulled her back with sudden force and she slammed her head back into his chest, letting out a muffled scream.

"Jesus fuck!" His accent, she knew his voice, she stilled. "God damn TJ it's just me." Mickey held her tightly still, probably unsure yet if she recognized him. Letting out a sudden gust of air, she relaxed, leaning back into him, tilting her head back against his chest to glare up at him as he scowled down at her. "You about fucking killed me."

"Serves you right moron, is this how you pick up all your friends? Cause now I see why I was your only fucking friend." She stressed out the was, grinning cockily up at him. His fingers were still firmly dug into her side, her tank top pushed up to the edge of her bra from the struggle.

"Was? Bitch you love me." He smiled back, placing a big wet kiss on her forehead for emphasis.

She reached up and smacked the side of his head but he retaliated, pinching her side. She squirmed in his hold, bringing herself up to be eye level with him.

"Are you going to introduce us to this lovely lady Mick?"

TJ turned her attention away from Mickey to the new voice, glancing at what she assumed was a ginger boy in the darkness of the van. He was next to the one who had been grinning at her earlier, both of them watching as thought this was a movie. She suddenly became very aware of her position, hands frantically pulling down her shirt as she distanced herself from the lap of Mickey who was chuckling.

"No lady here boys, this is TJ. My new neighbor." Mickey smiled over at her. She didn't feel comfortable around strangers, even if she was sure these were the boys he had talked about in the last couple of weeks. It made her anxious, after having been in her house alone for so long, her skin was crawling as they stared at her. "TJ this is the Gallagher boys, Ian and Lip."

"TJ, is that your real name?" The one called Lip questioned her.

"I don't know Lip, you tell me." He grinned at her response and she felt her resolve soften. Not enough to distance herself any further from Mickey though. Regardless of the warmth of summer, she made sure her leg was touching his, eyes shifting from face to face as the van bounced along the road. "Where are we going?"

"They're dropping me off at home. I got you some end tables." Mickey carelessly placed his hand on her thigh, Ian and Lip looking over their shoulders where the end tables were, pushed up against the back doors of the van. "When I saw you walking along the road, I couldn't resist."

She grumbled, swatting his hand away only to have it return. Glaring at his fingers she tried to make the rest of the eyes around her go away. But they were staring, at her, at him, at his hand, at her face, everything. She felt like she was under a microscope.

"Mickey tells us you're a good cook?" The ginger, she was sure he was gay – Mickey had said he guzzled cock daily – questioned her as he tried to break up the awkward silence.

"Yeah. I enjoy cooking. It's math but in the kitchen." He nodded, smiling sweetly at her. She returned the smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Mick. "Speaking of that, what do you want for dinner?"

"Pasta. That shit you made two weeks ago? What the fuck was that? I loved it."

She nodded, remembering the roasted vegetables with the penne pasta and cheese. If she had told him then that it had no meat in it, he wouldn't have taken the first bite. But she was changing his eating habits little by little. "Penne, I'll need to go grocery shopping."

"Cool, after we get these tables into your house we can go." She nodded, looking up at Ian and Lip who were looking at one another before returning their eyes to her. The curly hair one's eyes lingered, and she wanted to tell him to stop staring.

The van came to stop before she had the chance though, all of them shifting at the break. As soon as it was put in park Lip was out, the door opening up to a view of her house. Mickey got out next, extending a hand to her to help her out and she took it. Following behind her was Ian, Lip already opening up the back doors to get the two tables.

"Where did these comes from?" TJ glanced up at Mickey as he told them to take them around back and put them on the porch, he would get them from there.

"Oh, my boyfriend," Ian called out with a laughter from over his shoulder as he rounded around her house, "we robbed him. No worries. He won't miss them."

"What?" Turning her angry face on, TJ glared up at Mickey in a way she assumed a mother would their child. He rolled his eyes.

"Get your panties untwisted T, he asked us to rob him. Insurance cash out, ya know?"

She didn't know what to say, resounding to a firm grunt as she watched the two boys come back around to the front. They shared boyish handshakes with Mickey and were in the van and gone in no time. She watched the vehicle bounce on off down the road, certain she would be seeing them again soon.


	5. Chapter 5

"Put it back." TJ pointedly stared at Mickey, watching him sigh before putting the massive bag of twizzler's back. He was pouting, his eyes cast to the floor as he crossed his arms and continued down the grocery store isles with her. "So those were the Gallagher's?"

Mickey nodded, eyes shifting around the store to look at all the people. She had mentioned to him weeks back that he didn't need to be on the defense when grocery shopping, but he told her she didn't know him well enough to make that assessment. Which was true, so she dropped it, slightly ok with being as guarded as he seemed to want her to be.

It was all strange though, if she thought about it. Which generally she didn't let herself get too deep into thinking about it at all. She knew his first and last name, his address, and his siblings' names. He didn't call his dad dad, and he was gone all day, usually coming in late for dinner. He lived on the south side of Chicago, and although he had a thick Russian heritage, he couldn't speak the language to save his life. She knew very little of him, and it didn't take a genius to know he wanted it that way.

So she didn't think about it. Because Mickey was nice, protective, hilarious, and above all he didn't treat her like a shell of a person. She didn't feel helpless around him.

"My fucking shin still hurts girl, remind me to never jump you, shit." He grinned, faking a limp as he walked ahead of her, grabbing up the vegetables she was making him eat. She rolled her eyes, steering the cart away from him towards the meat counter. She'd get some chicken this time, seeing as he was watching her buy the groceries more often. She waited her turn, getting a few chicken breasts fresh to add to the penne.

He was back by the time she had gotten the protein, tossing the vegetables into the cart with a grin.

"Well I'll fucking be, is this Terry's boy, shopping?" The boisterous voice was followed up by an even louder round of laughter from two men. Mickey, who was beside her, grew very still, the tension suddenly surrounding her. TJ gripped the handle on the cart as she looked up at the two who were standing before them. Large, overweight, dressed in summer clothing, they looked to be in their late 40's if not 50's. Their eyes were cold, dark black pupils leering at her. The one on the left continued to chuckle softly to himself as the one on the right looked Mickey in the eyes.

"Your father sent me to get the shipment."

"Are you fucking stupid?" Mickey muttered it, shaking his head as he glanced over at TJ. "We're in a fucking grocery store, did your mother drop you on your fucking head?" He was half the size of the men, and TJ watched him walk around the cart to stand in front of them, as though he was Zeus the Almighty himself. "I can't believe my fucking father trusts you Leon."

"You listen here Milkovich, don't go talking all big because your whores here. Let's not forget who's in charge and who's paying the fucking debt." He shoved a chubby finger into Mickey's chest, and TJ felt the tremble go through her body. Sure, she knew how to punch and kick and scratch, but these men were four times bigger than her, she wouldn't be able to get away if she tried. "Tonight, don't fucking be late. I want you there at 10."

Mickey nodded, eyes on the floor, only returning to the two men as they turned their backs and headed out of the isle. He kept his back to TJ, his shoulders rising and falling as he seemed to be reeling over the moment in his mind. She went to speak up but he cut her off, glancing back only momentarily to look in her eyes.

"I'll catch you later TJ. Don't wait up."

He was gone. She watched him round the end of the isle and then she was alone. A hole filled in, her mouth dry as she tried to realize exactly what had happened.

* * *

He said, _don't wait up._

She rolled her eyes for the millionth time that night, the clock beside her bed blaring a bright 1AM. She had changed into her PJ's, plugged in the wall unit A/C for her room upstairs. Mickey had helped her clean out the front bedroom a few weeks back, getting her a new queen mattress still in plastic with a matching box spring. The bed frame was a metal rail set, something he said wasn't good enough for her but she was elated, giving him a hug that day without thinking.

It looked like a room almost. The dresser had come from god knows where, and one of the end tables they had brought home earlier had navigated its way upstairs.

She had eaten downstairs after getting home and cooking. She had put the leftovers away in a Tupperware container after an hour of waiting. She played video games, stalling on the load screens, hoping Mickey would saunter in through her back door per usual. But he didn't. When 11PM rolled around she washed dishes. At midnight she did a load of laundry.

Her eyes were heavy now, but she didn't want to sleep. Sighing deeply, she glanced out the window at the road for his car one more time before turning the light off and dropping herself into darkness. Sinking into the mattress, TJ pushed the blankets away, letting them drop to the floor as she hugged a pillow close to her.

The footsteps woke her. Her blurry eyes read the 2 AM on the clock as the bed dipped down beside her. Frantically she swung around, reaching out to hit whatever or whoever was in her room.

"Shit T! Stop it!" Mickey grabbed her arm, growling with anger as he took a few hits before she calmed down. She pulled her arm away from him, turning on the light quickly to look at him in the haze of her sleep. Mickey groaned, trying to shy away from the light, but she already saw the blood on his forehead and the sizable gash that ran along his hair line.

"What the fuck?" She hollered at him, pursing her lips as she leaned forward to move his hands and take a better look.

"Stop it woman, it'll be ok."

"Sure as fuck won't, I just washed these sheets. Go take a fucking shower." She shoved him from her bed, watching as he fell down to the floor, landing on his back. He groaned, glaring up at her before pushing himself up. She watched him head back into the hallway, stripping his shirt in the process. In the faint glow of the light on her bedside she watched him drop his pants before stepping into her bathroom to shower.

He left the door open as TJ sank back into the mattress, her heart hammering a mile a minute. She reached out to check her phone, seeing that he had texted her a few times in the last ten minutes. He asked if he could come over, only waiting a minute before saying he wasn't waiting. She smiled, listening to the shower for a moment before closing her eyes.

She dozed off, only realizing it when Mickey was back, the bed dipping down once again. He smelled like her body wash; the blood gone from his face. He was shirtless, a pair of his shorts he had left here before now on. He leaned over her, brushing against her skin for a moment to turn the light off. They were dropped in darkness as they sank into the bed. TJ faintly heard the murmur of a thanks before she was out like a light.


	6. Chapter 6

She woke to a heavy weight on her body, a warmth that suffocated, and banging on the front door that reached all the way upstairs. Groaning, TJ peeled her eyes open and blinked out the sleep as the sun slipped in through the blinds. The A/C was no match for the warmth of Mickey Milkovich. His soft snoring was being interrupted by the banging, his eyes shut tight, his arm slung over her midsection, body pressed up against her side.

She wiggled out from his hold and grabbed her PJ bottoms, giving him one last glance over her shoulder before heading downstairs to answer the door. Midknock she pulled the large front door open, glaring at the person on the other side, sleep still in her eyes.

"Hey." Lip Gallagher waved nonchalantly, a grin on his face, hair falling into his eyes haphazardly.

"What do you need?"

"Is Mickey here?" He peered over her shoulder, looking into the living room with eager eyes as he stepped a little bit closer to her. She pulled her door shut close to her body, giving him a tight smile.

"Haven't seen him. What do you need?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, hair moving back and forth, never clearing his vision. It was already hot outside, the morning sun beating down on the ground, she could feel the wave of warmth. She desperately wished she was still tucked in her bed, enjoying her sleep before the day's activities started.

"I know he's here Tamlyn, I dropped him off last night." He smiled with a confidence she didn't like, his eyes lighting up as he noted the confusion on her face when he said her full first name.

"How do you know my name?"

"I had someone run you, gotta make sure my friend is in good hands."

"I'm pretty sure Mickey can make decisions on his own, thanks. If that's it I'm going back to bed." She only waited for him to nod and throw his hands up, that stupid fucking grin still on his face. She closed the door quickly, locking the chain, dead bolt, and handle before heading back upstairs.

Mickey was still asleep, his body very much so in the same position, his arm slung over the mattress where she had been. She could see the cut clearly now, the bruise on his forehead prominent. Taking a seat beside his sleeping form, she reached out tentatively and brushed her fingers through his hair, minding the cut. With instinct his hand reached up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her down, his sleeping form still stronger than her fully awake one.

"Mick it's me." She repeated herself a few times, his grip on her arm extremely tight, his blood shot eyes only partially open. He had shoved her down into the mattress on her side, his weight holding her as he came to. Just as quickly as he had pinned her, he let her go, backing up slightly to look around the room, disoriented. She waited a minute before shuffling, moving to her back, looking up at him as he rubbed his eyes, towering over her, muscles fluid under his tanned skin. He was bruised on his chest, she could see old scars and new, jagged white lines on his flesh, bruises here and there. He wasn't extremely muscular but defined, hard labor-built body with a poor man's diet and a hustler's lifestyle.

"Your friend Lip was at my front door this morning, asking for you." It was a whisper on her lips as she watched him move his hands to his hair where he scratched his fingers over his clean scalp, finally looking down at her.

"Yeah, what he want?"

"It's not what he wanted, it's what he already knows." She felt her tone get defensive, Mickey seemed to notice it too, his tired face looking confused. "How long have you known my full name?"

"About a month."

"You know my birthday too, hell you probably have my transcripts and fucking medical records too?"

He only nodded, continuing to hover over her slightly, staring at her, waiting to see where she was going with this. He wasn't fazed, he hadn't lied to her. She knew what he was, she knew what he did, she couldn't deny that. There was nothing legal about Mickey Milkovich and he didn't try to pretend like there was.

"It's not fair." He wasn't expecting that.

"What you mean?" He dropped into the mattress beside her, grunting, his back flat on the warm mattress. He had slept well; he made a mental note to invade her bed more often if he got to sleep like that.

"You know all this shit about me and all I've got on you is your name."

"Well, Tamlyn Jean Schuler, what do you want to know?"

She reached out and smacked his bare chest, angry with him for using her full name. She hated it so much, the way it sounded, the way it fit in your mouth. No one could say it without the hillbilly accent her daddy had perfected through the years; it grated on her nerves.

"That's not the point. I..." She didn't know what the point was. She was angry about the invasion of her privacy, of course. She wanted to be the one to tell him those things, maybe explain here and there the bits and pieces that didn't paint her in a beautiful light. She didn't want him to judge her, the faint eye roll in her mind's eye as she sighed. "I didn't ... I didn't sell to that girl, it was just my party, and I ..." She didn't know how to explain herself, her mind running a mile a minute as Mickey stared at her patiently. "I used to like having fun, zoning out on whatever I could find. That's what rich kids do, right? We throw huge fucking parties and get shit faced on whatever pill's popular for the night and alcohol. I didn't know she was going to do that." She spared a look at Mickey, watching him run his thumb over his bottom lip, his eyes focused on her. She felt the cold air from the A/C and shivered.

Mickey grabbed the comforter and pulled it up over their heads, his arm settling around her midsection. He pulled her close, engulfing her with his warmth as he tucked her into the bind of his body.

"Shit happens." He grunted, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head as he relaxed. "No go to sleep."


	7. Chapter 7

TJ pushed the hair out of her eyes, leaning back on the dishwasher's sink in the back of the diner. Her boss, Sean, was out there interviewing a new placement. She was pretty enough, a tall skinny girl, curly dark hair, eyes as big as the moon. Her smile shined bright, her laughter filling the space around them. She was here for a reason though, so she was probably crazy.

She'd get the job, they needed more pretty waitresses.

Prying her eyes off the moment, TJ straightened up, put a smile on, and headed back out into the diner. As she took the order of the elderly couple that came in every Tuesday together, who always sat against the far-right window and ate the same order of pancakes and hash browns, the doorbell rang with a new customer.

She couldn't hear the actual words but she heard his voice, the low tambour, the accent thick, Mickey was someone you couldn't forget. At lease, not someone _**she**_ could forget. Glancing over at him he nodded in her direction, giving her a smile, his friend Lip behind him grinning too. She couldn't help but let her smile falter a little at the latter member of the party, but Marissa sat them in her area so she knew she would have to play nice. There was nothing wrong with Lip Gallagher, nothing wrong at all. He was entirely too smart, at everything really, and he knew it. He was a bit of a sleaze when it came to girls, but she figured his heart was in the right place; it was just the brain that got in the way.

Heading over, TJ slid into the booth next to Mickey. His arm went instinctively behind her on the bench, fingers tapping her shoulder softly. Ever since that night when he slept in her bed the boundaries had gotten smaller. He found himself in her bed more times than not each night, and she wouldn't deny that she enjoyed waking up curled up in his arms, tucked away against his side. The other waitresses had teased her about it in the beginning, telling her she didn't know what she was getting into, that he was nothing but trouble. She just let them know she already knew, shrugging off their comments quickly.

"What do you want?" She pulled out her order pad and pen from the front of her apron, looking over at Lip.

"I want the pancakes, side of sausage, cup of coffee." She wrote it all down, trying to ignore Mickey's finger that was currently making a swirl pattern on her shoulder blade.

"You?" She glanced over at him, catching his grin as he looked away from her to glance over at Lip.

"Same as him, I want eggs too though."

She nodded, taking his order before getting up. A quick glance over her shoulder made her aware that Mick was watching her walk away as Lip started up a whispered conversation. Heading up to the front, she put the order in for the cooks and went to get them both coffee. The girl who had been interviewing was still there, perched on a barstool, leaning on the counter.

"You get hired?" TJ glanced over at her, watching as the girl nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, welcome to the diner. Don't wear too short of skirts, they'll grab your ass." The girl laughed, nodding her head, her cheeks turning a twinge of pink.

"My name's Fiona."

"TJ." Turning around and offering her a hand, they shook, smiling at one another. "Well, I gotta go do refills, catch you later." Grabbing Mickey and Lip's coffee in one hand, and the pot of coffee in the other, TJ headed back out onto the floor. She slid Mick and Lip their coffee, moving on quickly, neither of them looking up from their hushed hush conversation.

* * *

She let her feet dangle off the back porch, a story up from the yard, she could see down the alley a bit, the neighbors just behind her swimming in their kiddie pool. She let the marijuana fade in and out of her mind, the smoke swirling around her nose, tickling her softly as she breathed in another hit and held it.

The back door to Mick's house opened, a slender girl stepping out, her brown hair falling over her pale shoulders. She had a phone pressed against the side of her face as her hands fiddled with a cigarette, her words loud and abrasive.

" _Jesus fucking Christ, why do you have to make this hard, it's a yes or no question. Are you sleeping with that blonde bimbo?"_

TJ tried to ignore her, not really acquainted with Mickey's sister in any way. She had never actually been in their house either. She pursed her lips, pushing herself up from the porch and stretching out her limbs, reaching for the stars. A goofy grin filled her face as she yawned, the sun setting, splaying the sky with purples and reds and blues.

Her phone buzzed as she stepped inside, her hand automatically fishing it out of her back pocket.

 _Not coming tonight, got business. I'll see you tomorrow._

It didn't happen often these days, but she wouldn't complain. Grabbing leftovers from her fridge she warmed up some pasta and camped out in the living room until she was good and tired.

* * *

Her phone buzzed, the wood of the side table vibrating, the phone sliding over its surface. She reached out, refusing to look, her hand smacking at the table until it finally landed on her cell. It was a phone call, her brain kicking in quickly as she pulled the phone from the charger and to her face so she could squinted in the darkness of the room to look at the caller ID.

Her stomach dropped almost instantly, her finger quickly hitting the answer tone as she put the device to her face.

" _Tamlyn?"_ Her father's accent was thick of some pretend southern twang he had developed years ago. He wasn't born anywhere near the south, but he lived in the northern tip of Florida now and he figured he had to fit in with the locals.

"Hi dad."

" _I hear the house is coming along nicely, floor was laid about a month ago, how is the painting?"_ He cleared his throat, answering a muffled question from someone beside him. She assumed he was in the office, calling her while ordering his morning coffee from a secretary.

"It's good. I have all of the rooms done but the living room."

" _That's good, I'm sending in a crew to replace the windows next week. So you'll need to be out of the house for a couple of days, they're going to need to leave the house unsecure. I've booked you a hotel room."_

"No I... I'm good I don't need the room." She didn't know why but she didn't want to take the hotel room, her mind racing a mile a minute about the accommodations he might have made for her.

" _Well it's already booked; I've emailed you the address and receipt. So if you don't use it that's fine, but it's there."_ He covered the receiver again, his voice muffled as he spoke with someone else. She closed her eyes, waiting for him, her heart hammering against her chest. She always felt anxious when he called, always felt like she was tip toeing around the room. Being in front of him made her mind explode, the person she normally was long gone and forgotten. _"I've got to go Tamlyn, I'll talk to you later."_

The line died, a click and silence followed after. She held on for a moment, hearing a ghosted I love you, and a hope you're doing great, in her head. But he'd never say it.


	8. Chapter 8

**What's up! I'm alive, I promise. Here you go, we're getting close! You know what I'm talking about... *wiggles eyebrows***

"Wow." Mickey nodded, looking at the dump of a place her father had booked her. "It's a few cum stains short of being a by-the-hour rental."

She didn't want to agree with him out loud, but he wasn't wrong. The bed had a set of sheets that used to be white on it, a blanket that hid stains. There was a closet, no doors, and a TV, bolted to the wall. The dresser was ok, one of the drawers sticking out just slightly. The wallpaper was a floral pattern, some of the sections missing, paint slapped on the wall in the gaps; a strange green color.

The man at the desk hadn't been friendly either, his leering eyes leaving TJ with a fowl taste in her mouth. He had told her to smile and Mickey had told him to fuck off, unceremoniously.

The angry Russian in question was walking around, examining every corner as TJ took her bag and sat it on the bed. This would be her home for the next week. She hadn't expected much, but this was worse than what she had thought it would be. She had replayed the conversation with her father over and over in her head, digging out meanings that weren't there. Which Mickey had offered to give her a ride the next morning, after telling him all about the windows, she was happy to have him there.

"Nah." He grabbed her bag, shaking his head. "Nope." She watched him head back out the door. She could see him through the window as he tossed her bag back in the back seat. Iggy was back there, leaning out the window, cigarette between his lips. "Come on T, you're not staying here."

She didn't want to argue, so she didn't. Locking the door behind her she got back in Mickey's car, giving Iggy a soft smile as she walked passed him. They sat there for a moment, Iggy pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and handing it over to his brother silently. TJ watched him lite up, his mind running a mile a minute as he thought about what to do.

"I'll be fine, I've been in worse." It wasn't a lie, definitely not. But whether he thought she was trying to make light of the situation, or he believed her, he didn't say. Turning the key in the ignition, he peeled out of the parking lot, leaving his cigarette butt behind as they pulled out into the traffic of Chicago.

They cruised in silence, darting in and out of traffic. When they turned the corner and shot by the diner TJ had an inkling of where they were going. Sure enough they pulled down their shared road, heading back towards her house, following the path they had just drove twenty minutes ago.

"We got ten minutes before Leon blows his shit Mick." Iggy, although generally relatively quiet, spoke up as they pulled outside the Milkovich residence. TJ's house next door already had contractor's swarming it, the front windows in the living room out, boards up covering the holes.

"Yeah yeah yeah, we'll be there. I'm just gonna take her inside, give me a minute." TJ jumped out of the car as Mick got out, watching him grab her bag through the back-car window before motioning for her to follow him. She had never been inside his house; she had never even stepped foot in the threshold. Following him up the porch, she took the three steps up and was walking through the front door, her nerves on high, just seconds later.

The window shades were drawn shut, curtains on all of them, a dark maroon color. A lamp on an end table next to the couch giving them light. Mickey gave her a second to check out the living room as he headed back and to the left, taking a small little hallway to what she assumed was a bedroom.

It was clean, but lived in, clutter here and there. She stood still in the middle, breathing in the air as she turned slowly, taking every inch of the house in. Old photos were on the walls, some posters, a few stickers, the strange yellow tint of the old paint popping out here and there. The floors were hardwood, she assumed it was the base floor, gouges and scratches in the surface. There was no upstairs but she could see the entrance to the basement, the door open slightly a light on downstairs.

The living room she now stood in had two red leather couches, their ends touching, a large TV up against the wall across from them. The coffee table was littered in magazines, opened mail, and she peeped a hand gun underneath the papers. Just beyond the couch was the dining room, a Formica table for six, the chairs all different, laundry in a pile on top. Just on the other side of that was the kitchen, a galley way style, a back door just on the other side, six boards running across it from left to right. She could see the washer and dryer as well.

"Don't go near the cabinet over there," Mickey pointed at a large two door white cabinet on the opposing wall from the TV, a padlock on it, "and my sister's name is Mandy. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Your stuff is in my room."

She was a little thrown off kilter when he stepped into her personal space, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading back out the front door. She watched him leave, listening to the rumble of his car as it took off and headed down the street, her mind still feeling his hands on her arms as he had held her to plant the kiss.

There was a moment of Southside Chicago silence before she heard the shuffling of feet in the hallway, Mandy appearing, half awake. Lip was just behind her, hair a mess, shirt gone, pants barely buttoned. He gave TJ a lazy smile as he finished buttoning his pants up before pulling his shirt from his back pocket. He pulled it on over his head, ruffling his hair just slightly, as though that made it better. He gave Mandy a quick kiss before smacking her ass. TJ crinkled her nose at him, ignoring his chuckle as he headed out the front door and slammed it behind him.

"So you're TJ?" Mandy walked around the back of the couch, heading into the kitchen to open the fridge. She was in a large t-shirt, no pants. Her hair was dyed black, long slender legs and fingers, eyes circled in eyeliner.

"That would be me."

"You hungry?" TJ could see that the fridge was empty from where she stood, her stomach growling on cue, as though it could hear the question. "Come on," Mandy chuckled, slamming the fridge door, "let's go get something to eat." She gave her a small smile before darting back down the hall to her bedroom, no doubt to change.

It felt strange, being in Mickey's house, in his world. This was his personal space. He had no problems invading hers, and she had chided herself more than enough times in the past for so easily letting him into her world, but this was reversal. His moment of debate back in the car outside the motel had been proof enough that he wasn't entirely sure. But here she was, getting ready to go get breakfast with his sister, standing in his living room, about to spend an entire week with his family day and night. She could see his baby photos on the wall, a photo she assumed was his dad, Mandy as a child. It sent a shiver down her spine as she felt nervous all of a sudden.

"Let's go to the diner, Mick says you work there. I've been dying to tell you all kinds of embarrassing shit about him." Mandy came back out from her room, a pair of pants on now, the same shirt just tucked in. She had ran a brush through her hair and straightened up her makeup, tossing on a pair of chuck tailors. She grabbed TJ's hand and pulled her back out the front door, leaving the girls nerves behind in the living room as they headed on out, arms linked.

* * *

When they got back Mickey was home. Mandy pulled her in through the front door, he boys lounging in the living room watching the bears game. TJ smiled at Mick, watching him move over and patting the seat next to him on the couch in invite. She wiggled over, dropping down between him and Iggy, watching the game along with them.

Mandy headed back into her room, rolling her eyes but smiling non-the-less.

"Where'd you all go?" He put his arm behind her, on the couch, fingers on her shoulder. TJ glanced over at Iggy who handed her a drink and a smile. She took a swig of the beer, belching loudly before putting it down on the coffee table, noting that the hand gun was gone.

"Diner. Mandy had a lot to tell me today."

Mickey groaned, Iggy laughed, half time was called. Commercials rolled on screen as TJ chuckled, turning her attention to the left, giving him a big ear to ear grin.

"I didn't know you were in choir when you were a kid."

"I was not."

"Not what I heard."

Mickey seemed to growl, giving her a glare that she ignored.

"Tights too, regular peter pan, didn't take you as a musical man Mick." Iggy snorted with laughter, his body shaking beside her.

"That's it, I'm fucking killing Mandy." Mickey pushed himself up off the couch and headed down the hall, TJ trailing him quickly, grabbing at his arm, laughing, trying to pull him back. Mandy's door was closed, it didn't stop him from banging on it though, her cackles of laughter heard threw the wood.

"You're fucking dead Mandy, you hear me?"

TJ couldn't help the laughter cascading out of her, her head now leaning against Mickey's back. She had a tight grip on his shirt, the material bunched up between her fingers as she used him as support, snorting with laughter that spilled out of her.

"Oh that's not even the beginning of what I told her!" Mandy's voice was muffled on the other side of the door.

"You think this is funny?" Mickey glanced over his shoulder, TJ picking her head up to smile at him. She balanced her chin on his shoulder, giving him a big grin, to which he rolled his eyes, turning around to face her. She was suddenly very close to him, his breathe fanning over her face, his fingers suddenly on her waist. There was a second, their eyes locked, his nose bumping with hers and she was sure he was going to kiss her but then Mandy's door opened and they were both shoved out of the way, the girl darting past them with maniacal laughter following her.

Mickey cursed her as he followed, sinking back into the couch, watching as TJ joined him, the game back on.


	9. Chapter 9

**** / WARNING! – A little bit of dirty is in this chapter.** **Fair warning, please continue, if you dare. / **** **I had to escalate like this, because I see Mickey like this, and because I need to get onto phase two. ... *James Bond music***

* * *

It was 2 am. TJ laid quietly on the couch, Iggy's soft snores filling in the space around them. His bed was just on the back side of the couch, a rolled-out bundle of blankets and pieces of fabric that he assembled every night, after moving the dining room table. She had asked him why he didn't sleep in the basement, to which he just scoffed, telling her that was their dads' space.

She had never heard of their father.

Her first night in the Milkovich's house was different. She had spent the evening watching the game, playing video games, and listening to Iggy tell her all kinds of stories as Mickey sat quietly beside her. He would chime in from time to time, but he had become slightly reserved since the incident. His door was closed, no noise coming from his space or Mandy's.

Mandy had told her she would have offered her space in her bed, but Mickey had switched out their mattresses a couple of weeks ago, giving her the twin since she spent more time with Lip than she did in her own bed.

Even the street seemed quiet. TJ hadn't spent many nights awake at this hour, but she kind of liked it. She would of course prefer to be asleep, but it was still nice. Pushing herself up from the couch with a sigh, she swung her legs over and stood up, dropping the blanket from her bare legs. Mickey had lent her a t-shirt to wear, threatening his brother to the end of his life if he dared get up and take a peek.

Walking over to the window, TJ pressed her palm against the glass and stared out at the silent and dark street. The majority of the streetlamps had been hit with enough rocks over the years that the city stopped replacing them, their glow no where to be found. She could make out the faint hum of the city in the distance, but the silence was strange for Chicago.

She heard his door open, the creek of the hinges filling in the void. She didn't look over her shoulder, her body suddenly shivering as she heard his feet padding on the surface of the floor. She was nervous, she didn't know why she was nervous. Her heart seemed to have leapt into her lungs as her body shook, Mickey's heavy footsteps stopping just behind her.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was thick with sleep. She was sure his hair was disheveled, his eyes rimmed red. She continued to stare out the window, shaking her head as an answer, unsure if she could look at him in that moment. She hadn't meant to think of him like that, not really. She had always pictured him as a friend, or at least tried to, but in that one fleeting moment, all the other moments seemed to grow more prominent on the side of "not just a friend".

His fingers on her waist started her. She sighed deeply at herself before chuckling softly, finally looking over her shoulder at him in the darkness. Iggy's soft snores still filled the room as she stared at a shirtless Mickey, his hair sticking up in all directions. His smile was soft and lazy, his hand now fully on her skin, coaxing her to turn around. She obeyed, letting him wrap his arms around her fully and pull her flush to him.

He held her close for what felt like ages, his hands pressed against her sides. He had tucked his face into the crook of her neck, and she was almost positive he had fallen asleep standing up. When he finally started to unravel his arms, he picked his head up, looking down at her lips, eyes not hiding what his mind was thinking.

"This is a bad idea." It was a whisper, his deep voice vibrating her chest. "Don't you listen to what your co-workers say?" She was having trouble focusing on his words, his hands straying from their position on her hips, dropping down to her thighs, one on her ass. He was holding her in ways she hadn't been held by him and her body was responding, a small gasp emitting from her lips.

"I've never been one to listen to other's opinions when it comes to things I want." The words just tumbled from her mouth as she did some exploring of her own, running her fingers up along his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. His eyes closed for a second, a small grunt passing through his lips as she dug her nails into his scalp. Her body was on fire, one part of her in fact burning up. Her legs were shaking, and when Mickey opened his eyes again at her words, she was sure she was a goner.

"Want huh?" He squeezed her ass hard, pressing her lower half against him, letting her feel him through his boxers. She bit her lip, the strangled groan passing through her lips. It took just that groan for him to finally lean down and kiss her. It wasn't cute, and it wasn't light. She found herself tipping back as he leaned into her and took her lower lip between his teeth. She gripped his hair hard, pulling at him frantically as his hand left her ass to explore underneath her shirt. It didn't take him more than a second to find her nipple, his hand pulling her shirt up and exposing her there, in the room his own brother was softly sleeping in.

She was dizzy, Mickey's mouth leaving hers to attach to her chest, her heart hammering away. She could still hear Iggy's soft snores as she bit back the moans, Mickey's hand now reaching down between her legs. She knew better than to ever think of him as patient, the steady controlling look in his eye as he watched her face, biting down on her flesh in his mouth. She gasps loudly, Mickey's hand leaving her core quickly, covering her mouth. He chuckled, her own smell now deep in her nostrils as he released her shirt and let it drop. Leaning in, he nipped at her ear, listening quietly for Iggy's snoring to continue.

"Come on baby, let me show you what want really is." He took her hand, giving her one last look in her eyes before pulling her through the living room and to the back door. He paused for a moment, grabbing a key ring off the hooks just beside the door. She wanted to ask him where the hell they were going but she kept her mouth shut. He opened the back door, looking over his shoulder one last time before ushering her out into the outside onto the back porch. He closed the door behind them, unceremoniously picking her up in his arms bridal style and carrying her down the stairs.

He carried her across his lawn, stepping on the earth and gravel, heading towards her own house. Heading up to the back porch he opened the back door, sitting her down in her own kitchen. She watched him lock the door, his demeanor shifting a little as he turned around and tossed the keys on the counter. He didn't touch her, just stood there in the darkness watching her.

"Are you sure about this T?" His voice was held back, something different in his tone she wasn't used to. He stressed his fingers through his hair and stared at her for a moment. "I can't give you no knight or armor or shit. I'm not... I'm not boyfriend material. I can make you feel good."

She weighed her options, scaling his body with her eyes openly. She had been in many different kinds of relationships in the past. She had tried the boyfriend, she had tried the one-night stand, she had even tried the friend with benefits. Maybe it had been the environment she had been in, or those people, but nothing ever seemed to make her feel solid. Not like Mickey did. The way she had felt just seconds ago was too far away of a memory, her body tingling at the thoughts of what he would do to her if allowed. Sighing deeply, she made up her mind.

Reaching down she grabbed the hem to the shirt he had let her borrow and pulled it up and over her head, making quick work of pushing her underwear down to her ankles. She stood before him naked, body shaking, eyes stuck on him.


End file.
